Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sri Lanka and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Q65,
Black Sheep,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
Public Enemy,
Sex Pistols,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minnie Riperton,
Cecil Taylor,
Lower 48,
Ralphi Rosario,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bronski Beat,
New Age Steppers,
Kas Product,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
kango's stein massive,
Aural Exciters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fall,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick May,
The Human League,
Sister Nancy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Black Bananas,
The Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Josef K,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
The Mojo Men,
Quando Quango,
The Happenings,
Moby Grape,
Terry Callier,
Amazonics,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.